


If I Could Turn Back Time

by sparklebarb



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Fix-It, M/M, Slow Burn, Stanley Uris Lives, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21668905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklebarb/pseuds/sparklebarb
Summary: A fix-it fic where Stan goes to Derry.That thought struck Stan hard, he could see his friends again. But in order for that to happen he had to go back to Maine, back to It. He wouldn’t be alone though, he would be surrounded by his friends. Stan knew he was a coward, and if he went back they would likely lose. He would be the cause for his friends death if he went, Stan was sure. He looked up at Richie and was reminded of his bravery, Richie had screamed in Its face and beat it with a bat. Maybe, maybe if Stan surrounded himself with brave people he could act brave too. He may be a coward at heart, but he was a selfish one he wanted to see his friends one last time. If he was going to die he was going to do it with them trying to take down It, not alone in the bathtub.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris
Comments: 8
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: This is a rewrite of It chapter 2 from Stan's point of view. This chapter contains thoughts of suicide, and everything that contains.

Chapter 1

Stan turned on the bathtub faucet with trembling hands, his thoughts were only of Bill and their fateful promise 27 years ago. He took a deep breath and mentally confirmed that...this was the right thing to do. One final cowardly act to save his friends and the children of Derry, it would ultimately be worth it.

Worth it, he silently chanted, as he searched the bathroom for a...tool to do it with. Stan grit his teeth and sighed when he only found a few cheap razors that were dull. They wouldn’t do that meant he would have to go into the garage to retrieve something better suited, which meant that he would have to go out and see Patty again. Guilt ate at him for doing this to her, to everyone, but mostly to her. The Losers would understand, Patty would never truly understand why he was doing this. That he was trying to protect everyone he cared about, including her.

Stan pictured Bill as he had last seen him, tall, gangly, and heartbreakingly handsome. He squared his shoulders, put a robe one and headed towards the garage. The short, but at the same time mile long path had a bookcase filled with almost all of Bill Denbrough’s novels. He had unknowingly collected them throughout the years, he ran his fingers down the spines of some of the more well loved ones. Determined blue eyes filled his mind as he peeked into the living room. 

Patty, his sweet Patty, was scrolling through Netflix while munching on popcorn. A sad smile slid across Stan’s face as he continued to the garage. Quick as he could, he snatched up what he was looking for and slid it into his robe pocket. Stan stopped and took a few deep breaths as he assured himself that this was the right thing to do. That it was his only option in order to protect his friends. With a stuttering mouth set in his mind, he started back to the bathroom. Only to be stopped in his tracks near the living room, an annoying and achingly familiar voice was filling the room. Stan felt tears well in his eyes, the first time since he had decided what he had to do.

He stepped fully into the living room and saw him. He was on the TV, he looked so grown up, so different than the last time Stan had seen him. At the same time he looked exactly the same, he had the same messy curls, oversized glasses, and filthy mouth. The same boy who had been his best friend since they were in diapers. The boy who had whispered dirty jokes to him during temple. The boy who would go bird-watching with him, even though he couldn’t sit still for 2 seconds. The boy who helped him gather the courage to kill that  _ fucking  _ clown. His Trashmouth, his Richie, who made him realize that he was strong enough that day 27 years ago.

Stan rubbed at his tearfilled eyes and moved to sit next to Patty on the couch. He sat in silence and watched his childhood best friend make truly terrible and unfunny jokes. It was an aching familiar experience, he was reminded of all the ‘your mom’ jokes Richie had spewed growing up. He had always been desperate to make anyone laugh at his jokes, Stan supposed that hadn’t changed in him. Stan huffed a watery laugh at a joke about masturbaters anonymous, not because it was a funny joke. It was a God-awful on actually, but it was a phrase that had undoubtedly come from  _ his _ trashmouth.

“Do you like him? Some guys at work said he was hilarious, but I don’t really think so. Maybe it’s a guy thing.” Patty said softly.

“Oh no, he’s a terrible comedian. I don’t find him funny at all, never did really.” Stan said with an eye roll.

“What do you mean?” Patty questioned. Stan stiffened and turned to look at her.

“Richie and I...we actually grew up together in Maine. I haven’t thought of him in years, didn’t even know he was famous.” Which was true and saddened him deeply, he had missed so much of his friend’s lives.

“That’s really cool.” Patty replied. They lapsed back into silence and Stan returned to watching Richie.

He was definitely the same goofball he had always been, but his stage presence was off somehow. Richie had always told crude and lewd jokes, but he had always known where the line was. The jokes he was making on his special were offensive in a way Richie had never really been. He liked to joke about having sex with everyone’s moms, but every joke Richie made about his girlfriend pulled at Stan. They were off somehow, they didn’t fit the Richie Stan had known. He could always ask Richie when he saw him in person, Stan reasoned.

That thought struck Stan hard, he  _ could  _ see his friends again. But in order for that to happen he had to go back to Maine, back to It. He wouldn’t be alone though, he would be surrounded by his friends. Stan knew he was a coward, and if he went back they would likely lose. He would be the cause for his friends death if he went, Stan was sure. He looked up at Richie and was reminded of his bravery, Richie had screamed in Its face and beat it with a bat. Maybe, maybe if Stan surrounded himself with brave people he could act brave too. He may be a coward at heart, but he was a selfish one he wanted to see his friends one last time. If he was going to die he was going to do it with them trying to take down It, not alone in the bathtub.

“Sweetie, I got the call while I was in the bathroom. I have to go to Maine for work, the account is a massive mess so I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” Stan said before he could change his mind.

“Oh! When do you leave? I have enough vacation days, I could probably come with-”

“No! No, you can’t-” Stan took a deep breath. “You should save your vacation days for South America.”

Patty looked confused and a little upset, Stan felt bad for talking over her like that. He grabbed her hand and gave her an apologetic look.

“Oh...okay. When do you leave then?” She asked again. Stan pulled out his phone to look at flights.

“Looks like 9:30 tomorrow morning.” It was the earliest flight with open seating he could find.

“You should probably be packing then. I can give you a ride I don’t…” Patty trailed off and tilted her head. “Do you hear that?”

Stan tuned out Richie’s voice with practiced ease and listened to the house. He could hear running water which was…

“Shit, the bathtub!” He exclaimed. 

Stan rushed to the bathroom and shut off the taps. It was decently flooded, so he grabbed towels and began to soak up the water. A weight pulled at his robe and hit his leg repeatedly. He pulled out what he had grabbed from the garage, he held it in his hand and stared at it, thinking that maybe he should go ahead and go through with it. No! No, he could do this. The losers were stronger together,  _ all  _ together. The threw the tool into the trash where it landed with a satisfying thunk.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Stan  _ hated  _ airports, he wouldn’t have been surprised if It had invented them to torture people. The losers were supposed to meet at 6pm for dinner. He had planned to arrive at The Jade of the Orient around 5:30, but because of a flight delay and baggage claim issues he was almost 2 hours late. He broke a few speeding laws in order to reach the restaurant, he desperately hoped that his friends were still there. 

As he pulled up in a parking spot he could see them, they were standing in the parking lot, talking to someone on the phone. Stan felt his heart stutter in his chest, seeing his friends, all together, warmed his heart. He pressed a hand against his chest and felt tears fill in his eyes. Bill, Richie, Mike, Eddie, Bev, and Ben, they were  _ together _ Stan could be with them too if he could just get out of the car. He felt so happy but his limbs felt like they were made of heavy iron. Stan watched as his friends hung up the phone, and they looked very...upset.

He forced himself to get out of his car, he stumbled over to where they were standing. Beverly saw him first, her face went from shocked to confused to horrified in a matter of seconds. She grabbed at the loser who was standing closest to her, slowly all the losers turned to him with the same horrified look. Stan took a step back, he had no idea what was going on, why they were looking at him like that. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it soon after because he had no idea what to say.

“Stan?” Beverly’s voice was almost inaudible. It would normally make him happy to talk to one of his friends but their reaction was beginning to scare him.

“I-I know I’m a little late to the party, but I missed you guys.” Stan forced out. 

Beverly glanced down at his wrists, he felt a wave of hot shame pass over him. He felt as if she someone knew what Stan had been planning, he put his hands behind his back in a hurried motion.

“What the fuck! First the shit with the fortune cookies and now showing us a ghost. That clown is really kicking this shit off, huh?” Eddie burst out. Stan softened some, Eddie hadn’t really changed either.

“Stan is that really you?” Mike asked softly. Stan nodded.

“Yeah, my flight got delayed, but I’m here now.” He explained.

“But...you...we called P-p-patty and she said you were...g-gone.” Bill stuttered out. He furrowed his brows, why would Patty say he was dead, she had dropped him off at the airport that morning.

“I’m not sure what happened to you guys, but I’m fine, I’m right here.” He pleaded to them. Stan took a few steps towards them and was disheartened when they stepped back.

“Prove it.” Richie commanded. Stan shot him a bewildered look.

“How?”

“I don’t know, just, just tell me something only the real Stan would know.” 

“It knows everything Rich, there isn’t a thing that I could tell you that It wouldn’t know asshole.” He shot at Rich with an accompanying eyeroll. The other losers looked around at each other questioningly.

Richie walked over to Stan and put a big hand on his shoulder, he could smell the booze radiating from Rich. His glossy eyes made eye contact with Stan’s, they stared at each other for a few seconds. He did he best to not make a face but Richie didn’t smell the...best, Richie leaned in closer to him.

“You fucking reek Rich, take a shower.” Stan complained while shoving him away. A huge dopey grin slid across his face, and then he turned back to the other losers.

“This is our Stan the man alright.” Richie put an arm around his shoulders and yanked him close.

The phone in Beverly’s hand started to shake, it began to play an old timey carnival tune. Bev screamed and threw the phone, from the ground it began to grow legs and scutter. Ben began to stomp on the phone until it was in normal pieces on the ground, he stood there panting as the rest of the losers looked on in shock.

“We should probably go before they call the cops on us.” Richie interrupted. Everyone else made noises of ascent but didn’t actually move.

Stan made eye contact with Bill, and shit, Bill had grown up to be handsome. His eyes hungrily ate up Bill’s adult look, he gave Stan a sweet smile. Stan’s heart melted and he smiled back.

“Off we go to experience the wonderful Derry Townhouse.” Richie said in a faux tour guide voice. He began to dig in his pocket for his keys, Eddie stormed over and yanked Richie’s keys away.

“You’re in no state to be driving.” He snapped.

As soon as he came close Stan could smell alcohol on him as well. He looked around at everyone else, they all looked a little glassy eyed and dazed. He sighed deeply, at least he had a decent sized rental.

“I don’t really think any of you are. My car should be big enough for all of us, let’s go.” Stan said leaving no room for questions.

The ride to the town house was packed and uncomfortable, Eddie was in Richie’s lap in the front and Bev had ended up in Bill’s lap in the back. Stan and Ben shared similar looks of jealousy in the rearview mirror. It wasn’t a long drive but Richie narrated the whole way with snarky jokes. It was a terribly uncomfortable ride, but Stan couldn’t have been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is ehhhhhh


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

At the townhouse they all reacted as many adults do in stressful situations, copious amounts of alcohol. The other losers had a head start on Stan, but he quickly caught up. Patty didn’t drink so he rarely did, Stan could count the amount of times he had been drunk or even tipsy on one hand. It only took a few shots for him to feel the alcohol's effects.

When he looked up from his drinks he noticed Bev and the other losers giving him a strange look. He made eye contact with her and tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner.

“Honey we’re overjoyed you’re here of course, but we thought…” She trailed off.

“Patty, or not Patty I guess, told us you offed yourself in the tub. Not to mention the freaky shit with the fortune cookies, and Bev knowing about it before Patty told us. So I guess we are all surprised you’re here.” Richie picked up and shot a strange look at Beverly. She took a steadying breath.

“I saw it in the deadlights, I saw our lives and our deaths in the deadlights. I saw you Stan...I saw all of us, but Stan was always first.” She forced out.

Stan felt hot shame wash over him, he decided he was too sober for this and took another shot.

“It must have been one of It’s sick tricks. I mean Stan would never to something like that.” Ben said in his defense.

The loser’s turned to look at him, guilt and shame built up equally in his body. After another shot he began to explain.

“As soon as Mike called I remembered everything. The clown, Neibolt, Bowers...everything. I didn’t think I could...I couldn’t...I knew I wasn’t strong enough to go through this again. So I, I was going to take myself out of the game.” Stan took several shuddering breaths before continuing. “I had the bath drawn and everything, I was about to...but I realized I needed something last minute. When I went out to get it Patty was watching one of Richie’s specials. Seeing him grown up made me realize I wanted to see everyone else grown up too. I’m more selfish than I am a coward, so yeah Ben I wouldn’t sound so certain if I were you.”

By the end of his explanation Stan had his head down and his tear filled eyes trained on the cheap wooden bar top. A stunned silence rang around the room. He wiped at his eyes, a strong hand clapped him on the shoulder. He looked up to meet Ben’s perpetually kind eyes filled with pity. A glass slammed on the bar had everyone looking over.

“Fuck! There goes my plans for running off in the middle of the night. I can’t let my new number one fan down.” Richie stated with a wink at Stan. Stan gave him a grateful look, he could always trust Richie to not handle him with kid gloves. The other losers looked at each other nervously.

“Just kidding, I only came here to tell you how shitty your jokes are in person. Your audience must consist entirely of neck beards and 12 year olds.” Stan said dryly. That shocked a laugh out of Ben, Bill, and Eddie.

“He doesn’t even write his own jokes!” Eddie added with glee.

That began Eddie and Richie and sniping at each other, the sound of their bickering settled over Stan’s shoulders like a warm blanket. Bill slid into the seat next to him.

“I’m g-glad you made it, this wouldn’t be the s-s-same without you.” Bill said softly. Stan’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“I’m happy to see you too. Your books suck by the way.” He snarked. Bill sighed and Stan grinned.

“You’re not the first to tell me that.” He commiserated with a drink.

Stan made small talk with Bev, Bill, and Ben for a few minutes. They caught each other up on what had happened the past 27 years. Suspicion crawled up his spine as he learned about how well his friends were doing. They were all varying stages of rich and famous, 3 of them were actual celebrities. He knew all his friends were very capable people but 6 out of the 7 of them doing extremely well, Stan didn’t know the statistics, however it seemed extremely unlikely. It made him think the clown had a hand in it, but why? If he wanted the losers alive so they could return he didn’t have to make them well off. To Stan it seemed very bizarre It would allow them any happiness in their lives, and Stan was very content with his.

Stan mulled his thoughts over as he looked around the room. Mike was on a love seat nearby nursing a glass of amber liquid. He looked happy to be here and was looking at everyone with open admiration. Stan also noticed Richie and Eddie leaned into each other, which wasn’t strange by itself, but they were talking  _ quietly  _ and their eyes were darting around the room suspiciously. He narrowed his eyes at them, but decided to ignore it for now and went to talk to Mike.

Mike looked up at Stan with a sweet smile as he approached. His heart melted some, Mike had always been so sweet to him. Stan sat down heavily next to him.

“I’m sorry we forgot you Mike, I missed you so much without even realizing it. Were you alone this whole time?” Stan asked.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault. I missed you too, all of you. I suppose I was, I didn’t really notice because I was so focused on defeating It.” Mike said softly. He could sense the lie, no one spent 27 years alone without noticing it, but he let it slide.

“It’s so weird, isn't it? All of us grown up, with like jobs and shit. Everyone is so attractive now too, look at Ben he like ripped.” Stan said with a sigh.

“I know I almost couldn’t believe it when I looked him up. I wish I was still that strong, all those years researching softened me up.” Mike stated while patting his stomach.

Stan squeezed his bicep, and didn’t understand what he was talking about. His arms were definitely still firm and muscular.

“I don’t know Mike, seems like you still have that country boy strength.” Stan slurred, the alcohol really hitting him.

He felt Mike’s chuckle more than he heard it, without him realizing it he had slowly rested his head on Mike’s shoulder. Stan distantly heard someone else coming over to talk with them, but wasn’t able to really focus on what they were saying. He was so tired from traveling all day and having tense discussions. Stan was so comforted by the noise of his friends and Mike’s earthy smell he drifted off without meaning to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda forgot about mike for a minute there...oops


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Stan woke up to the sound of yelling, before he could think he shot up and ran towards the noise. It took a few seconds for Stan to remember he was at the Derry townhouse, which made his fear worsen. As he stormed down the stairs the yelling stopped and he heard a door slam. Stan slid to a stop on the landing of the stairs, he looked around and saw Bill, Mike, and Ben standing in the main room with annoyed looks on their faces.

“W-what happened?” Stan asked, out of breath.

“Richie’s leaving, I tried to talk him out of it but…” Ben explained with a dismissive gesture at the door. Stan furrowed his brows.

“How? Everyone’s car should still be at the restaurant.” 

“The Jade of the Orient isn’t that far away so I walked there this morning to pick up my truck. After that everyone took turns taking each other to their cars. Eddie and Richie went together, I guess they talked each other into leaving.” Mike explained with a deep sigh.

“So Eddie is gone too?” He asked while looking for his keys.

“N-n-no, Bev’s up t-there t-t-talking him d-down.” Bill assured.

Stan nodded and marked that off of his mental check list, Beverly would make him stay. After searching for a few minutes he found his car keys, he patted his pockets for his wallet and came up empty.

“Do you guys know where my wallet is?” Stan asked.

“Yeah it should be on your nightstand, I put it there after helping you upstairs last night. Where are you going?” Mike explained. Stan gave him a grateful look, sleeping on one of the ancient love seats would have killed his back.

“To get some breakfast.” Which was only a partial lie.

“Okay...I think Bill and I are going to head over to my apartment to do some research. It’s above the public library is you need us.” Mike was giving Stan a suspicious look, which wasn’t surprising.

Bill was giving Mike a strange look as Stan turned to walk upstairs. He changed his clothes and grabbed his wallet. He wanted to shower to get the airplane and alcohol smell off of him but he didn’t know how long Richie would stay in town so he went without.

Soon enough Stan was driving around Derry. Richie, at his core, was a sentimental person, so he was hoping Richie had stopped somewhere nostalgic before leaving. Stan drove by the old movie theater, the park, all of the loser’s childhood homes, and near the quarry. Anywhere the loser had enjoyed hanging out, Stan was struggling to think of more places to go as he drove by the synagogue. A cherry red convertible stuck out like a sore thumb in the parking lot, he smiled and pulled in next to it.

As he walked into the synagogue he was struck by how little it had changed from his childhood. Stan’s chest felt tight as he looked around and was reminded of how much time he had spent in this building, he could see the door to his father’s old office and felt his chest tighten even more. It even had the same smell, one Stan couldn’t identify and had missed dearly. A familiar mop of hair was seated in the pews to the right of the bimah. Richie was looking down at his hands, he hadn’t seemed to notice Stan’s arrival. He quietly went to sit next to Richie, who turned his head slightly towards Stan.

“I hate you sometimes you know? Here I was ready to run away, but I so much as glance at the synagogue and suddenly I’m so filled with guilt I can’t leave. I thought guilt was for the Catholics.” Richie ranted.

“You weren’t actually going to leave Rich.” Stan told him softly.

“Fuck you, yes I was.”

“No you weren’t.”

“And how do you know that Stannie? You don’t know me anymore, it’s been almost 30 years!” He was almost yelling by the end. Stan reached out and placed his hand on top of Richie’s.

“You’re a good man and a good friend, you would never abandon us. I don’t think that would have changed and I don’t think it ever will.” Stan spoke softly. He felt like a bit of a hypocrite, he had been so close to abandoning his friends two days ago.

“Fuck dude, how do you always know what to say?” Richie whined before falling silent.

They sat together in silence for a few minutes, taking quiet comfort in each other. It had been so long since Stan had prayed, he wasn’t sure how much faith he had but praying had always comforted him. He began to say a silent prayer in his head, after all it’s not like it could their chances of winning. When his prayer for safety was finished Richie began to fidget.

“Do you remember your Bar Mitzvah?” Richie asked breaking the peaceful silence.

“Do  _ I  _ remember  _ my  _ Bar Mitzvah? Yeah I’d say so.” Stan answered.

“That speech you gave was something else. I swear your dad turned purple, it was amazing.” Richie reminisced. Stan was confused.

“What do you mean? I didn’t give a special speech at my Mitzvah, it was a completely normal one.” That had Richie sitting up and looking at him fully.

“Stan...what do you remember from your Bar Mitzvah?”

“I read from the Torah, gave a speech about the passage, and went to an awkward party with all of my relatives.” Stan snapped, not knowing what Richie’s deal was.

“That’s what happens at a Bar Mitzvah, but that’s not what happened at yours. I thought you remembered everything Stan. Do you not remember your speech about being a loser? Do you not remember saying fuck in front of everyone, dropping the mic, and leaving?” Richie asked sounding bewildered.

Stan racked his brain trying to remember what Richie was talking about, it was fuzzy but he did remember getting in huge trouble after his Bar Mitzvah. He tried so hard to remember the speech, but he kept coming up blank. It bothered him, he thought all his memories were back, why couldn’t he remember this? Why would the clown take his memories of his Bar Mitzvah? What else was he missing?

“I guess I don’t…” He spoke after a few minutes of silence. “Let’s go get breakfast and bring it back to the inn. We can talk it over with everyone else. You can pay Mr. Famous Comedian.” Stan commanded while standing up.

Richie began to bicker with him, it continued as they rode together in Stan’s car. It was a nice way to take his mind off of everything, at least for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took so long to get up I've been super busy at work. I have the next chapter halfway done but my birthday is on the 12th, so it'll be a few more days before that one is up as well. Also it's been a long time since my religion class so if I got anything wrong in regards to the Bar Mitzvah or the synagogue just let me know.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Richie and Stan went to one of the local coffee shops to pick up coffee and pastries for everyone. As they were leaving Stan’s phone buzzed with a message.

**Beverly**

_ 10:13 AM _

Bill says to meet at the clubhouse

You got Richie? Eddie’s good

_ 10:15 AM _

No problem, yes I have Richie. We grabbed coffee and pastries for everyone. Tell Eddie I made sure to get him gluten and nut free ones.

Stan had Richie drive, partially because he was carrying the coffee, but also because no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t remember where the clubhouse was. He had a vague memory of it being underground, but other than that he couldn’t remember anything. It was strange, Stan felt like he remembered everything about the clown, but there were definite gaps in his memory. The gaps seemed to extend past that summer, they seemed to continue all the way until he left Derry. He pushed at the blanks like a sore spot but only got fuzzy static in return.

Richie kept fiddling with the radio as he drove, it annoyed Stan to the point where he slapped Richie’s hand and shut the radio off. He was a bad enough driver already, Richie didn’t need more distractions. They sat in silence the rest of the way to the clubhouse, both lost in tumtulous thoughts.

The other losers were already parked and standing in a group when they pulled up. Beverly waved to them as they walked up. Richie and Stan doled out the coffee and pastries to everyone. Bill scarfed them down, he looked a little off, his hair was mussed and his eyes were glassy. Stan gave him a concerned look as they walked into the forest.

“Where is the opening at anyway?” Eddie directed at Mike.

“I’m not sure to be honest, I haven’t been here since…” He trailed off. Since he had been left alone, Stan was sure.

They walked into a familiar clearing and began to spread out. Stan stepped with care, not wanting to step wrong and hurt himself. His head began to pound as they searched, static taking over most of his thoughts. He closed his eyes against the deafening noise in his head, Stan felt as if he could collapse from how overwhelming it was. He stopped by a tree and braced a hand against it, a voice was coming through the static and echoed in his brain. Stan couldn’t make out what it was saying but it was sending chills throughout his body.

A yelp cut through the noise in his head, he shot his head up. Ben had fallen in a hole, Stan rushed over with the other losers. He sighed a breath of relief when he saw Ben sitting, mostly unharmed and a little embarrassed, in what must have been their clubhouse. His clothes were covered in coffee, Ben was pulling at his shirt as he smiled up at them.

“Ooooooh no, looks like you spilled something on your shirt Benny buddy, maybe you should take it off.” Richie called down to him. Stan elbowed him sharply.

One by one they all climbed down into the clubhouse, Stan going last. As he looked around the dusty room some of the static lifted from his brain. He could remember lazy afternoons here, reading comic books and messing around. Stan would use it as a personal waypoint when he went birdwatching. Eddie and Richie would ‘fight’ over the hammock before ending up in it together. Stan looked over at Mike, he could remember spending nights stargazing with him here. Memories overloaded his brain, but he felt as if he was still missing something.

Looking around he felt as if something  _ big  _ had happened here, he didn’t know if had happened  _ to _ him or  _ with _ him. The memory (memories?) slipped from his fingers, but a residual feeling of happiness settled in him. He peered at Bill, the memories surrounding him were fuzzy, excitement filled in him as he considered that maybe something had happened  _ with  _ Bill here. Eddie began to rummage around, Stan walked over to one of the tables. A painted rock was on top of a stack of papers, the rock was painted with a cute dot design surrounding a big heart. He used his thumb to rub the dust off, he didn’t know why but the rock made him happy. Stan slipped it into his pocket with one hand and picked up the papers with the other. They were dry and the ink had been faded with sunlight, he brought it closer to his face. Stan could barely make out his name, he threw them to the floor as heard  _ It  _ singing.

All of the losers turned to the corner where it was coming from. Richie walked out out of corner doing the strange dance and giggling.

“Get it? Like the clown? He did the…” Richie trailed off. Stan rolled his eyes and began to look around again.

“Richie you dick! Are you serious?” Eddie screeched. They began to bicker.

“Stan! Do you remember these?” Bill called out.

Stan turned to him with a smile, he was holding out a coffee can. He narrowed his eyes at it, trying to pull it from his mind. He swore quietly as he came up blank.

“I-I don’t actually.” Stan mumbled.

Bill opened the lid and pulled out the shower caps from inside.

“Yeah, you m-made us wear them so we w-w-wouldn’t get spiders in our hair, you were always l-looking out for us.” Bill explained with a sweet smile. Stan wished he could remember.

“Well, one of had to have some sense.” Stan snarked, a memory struck him, “I remember having to fill this place with fruit so you heathens wouldn’t get scurvy.”

The memories began to fill in more, he could remember filling this place with anything he thought his friends needed. ‘Borrowing’ things from his parents garage to make this place more comfortable and getting his first job at the grocery store so he could bring soda and snacks.

They reminisced for a while more, talking through old memories and laughing with each other. Stan wanted to stay here, he didn’t want to deal with It, he just wanted to stay here with his friends and have fun. It was a familiar feeling for Stan in the clubhouse, but he knew they had come here to do something.

“Alright Mike, what do we need to do? To defeat It?” Stan interrupted. Mike shifted uncomfortably.

“There is a ritual we have to do, everyone needs to collect a token.” He didn’t really explain.

“Token?” Bev asked.

“Something from that summer, something from when we were alone That summer.” 

“We were together that whole summer.” Ben said. Stan remembered, it was one of the first things he had remembered.

“No we weren’t,” He gave Richie and Bill significant looks, “Remember? Bill and Richie fought, we all separated after that.”

The losers all nodded, eyes hazy with memories. Stan looked at Mike, he had a sad smile on his handsome face. Unconsciously Stan rubbed at the stone in his pocket, he knew it wasn’t his token, that would be far too simple.

“Okay...so we all go look for our tokens and then we meet back at the townhouse?” Stan asked. The losers agreed and everyone climbed out of the clubhouse.

“We shouldn’t split up. Haven’t you guys ever seen a horror movie? Splitting up is a really stupid idea.” Richie pleaded.

“He’s right, splitting up is a dumb plan.” Eddie agreed with him.

Stan looked over at Mike, he also liked the idea of staying together. The losers were stronger together. Mike made eye contact with him and gave him a sad smile.

“I’m sorry you guys have to do it on your own.” Mike explained. 

They separated, everyone heading off alone, and filling Stan with worry. He had no idea what his token was. After the fight Stan had gone back and forth between Richie’s and Bill’s house trying to get them to get along again. Even when the losers were separated Stan had made sure to spend time with all of them. He couldn’t remember spending a significant time alone. He felt useless, being unable to think of a single thing that could be his token. Stan set upon Derry, determined to find his token.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took longer than i expected. Some of you might have noticed some of the tag changes, I added Mike/Stan because they fit a better endgame than Stan/Bill. I'm super sorry for changing it but I didn't start this fic with an outline so I didn't realize how it would end. I have more of a structure now so hopefully I can get chapters up faster and not have any more big changes.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Stan found himself back at the synagogue, he wasn’t sure why but it was one of the most familiar places to him in Derry. The synagogue was empty, which made sense, it was the middle of the day on a weekday, after all. He ran his fingers along the bottom of the bimah, remembering his father’s services. He looked over towards the front row of the pews where Stan and his mother would sit every Saturday. This place brought him such comfort, he always felt like It couldn’t touch him in here.

“Excuse me? Can I help you?” A soft voice came from the back of the synagogue. Stan whipped around, a kind middle-aged looking man was standing at the entrance to the rabbi’s office.

“Oh sorry, I’m just...looking around I suppose. My dad used to be the rabbi here and I was in town, so I thought I would come visit.” Stan explained quickly.

“Well that’s wonderful! It’s always nice to see a familiar face. How long has it been since you’ve been here? If you don’t mind me asking.” The man said with a kind smile.

“Oh, I think we moved in ‘94 or ‘95, so since then I guess.” He responded, taking a few steps closer and holding a hand out. The man took Stan’s hand in a firm grasp and shook it, his hands were strangely cold and clammy.

“That means your father is Rabbi Uris, he’s a great man. He actually left some things here when he left, if you want to see them?” The rabbi said with a gesture towards the office. Stan nodded and followed him into the office.

They made polite conversation as the man rummaged through some storage boxes. Stan looked around the office, practically unchanged, he eyes landed on it. The painting that had terrified him for years, she was hung in the same spot as always. A memory ran through him as he stared at the elongated woman.

* * *

**1989**

His father had been  _ pissed _ when he finally found Stan after his Bar Mitzvah, Stan was officially grounded until his father calmed down. Part of his punishment was to write passages from the Torah in English and then Hebrew. He had been forced to sit in his father’s office facing the painting. Stan kept his eyes firmly on his papers, even when he wasn’t writing. He could feel the painting staring at him constantly.

One particular day his father had left Stan alone in the temple to go run errands. He had been writing without really paying attention to the words when he heard it. A flute was playing a high pitched creepy sound, fear crawled down Stan’s spine. He did his best to ignore it and write faster. The song grew louder and faster, as did his breath. He could feel tears prickling at his eyes.

“S tan... Stan... Stan!  Staannnnnn, look at me.  Stan I have a secret for you pretty boy.  Look at me Stan .  Look! At! Me! ” He slammed his pen down with trembling hands and slowly raised his head. The painting was twitching, the woman began to climb out of it. He could feel tears roll down his face.

“L-l-leave me alone. This isn’t real. This cannot be real.” Stan stuttered out. The woman landed on the floor with a wet slap, he wanted to run but felt glued to his chair.

“But it is Stanny. I’m very real and I have a secret for you. Do you want to hear it?  Do you?  Do you?  Do you? ” She spoke while twitching and stumbling closer to Stan. He repeatedly mumbled no.

“Your friends don’t like you Stanley. Did you know that? Your friends think you’re a dirty little boy, they can barely stand the sight of you. They only talk to you because they pity you, they pity on the strange, dirty, little Jewish boy. Bill sees the way you look at him with your dirty eyes, and he knows the way you touch him with your dirty hands.  You  disgusting  boy!” The last words were screamed into his face, Stan slammed his eyes shut.

The woman put her hands on his face, her palms touched the bottom of his chin and her long thin fingers reached all the way into his hair. Her hands were wet and smelled so bad it was clogging up his throat. He could feel something dripping down his neck.

“ Look at me.  Look at me! Look! At! me!  Look me in the eye Stan!” Her long fingers pried at his eyes in order to open them. He squeezed them shut even harder. The woman let out a high pitched scream, her fingers tore at his hair. They caught his kippah and ripped it off, one of the clips caught on his scalp and scratched it. 

Stan kicked out at the woman, his feet landed on the desk and pushed it and the woman away from him. He ran out of the room, he could hear her screaming behind him. He tried to open his eyes but whatever she had on her hands got into them and began burning. He sobbed and began to rub at them furiously as he ran outside.

Finally he got them clean and opened them. Stan looked down at his hands, they were covered in blue and purple paint. He could feel it in his hair as well, the breeze making it feel even more wet and cold. Before he could think about it he was leaned over hyperventilating. He was so dirty and disgusting, he didn’t think he would ever feel clean again. Panic began to roll through his body.

Stan’s head shot up as he heard a car coming up the street, it was probably his father. He began to run without thinking, he ran and ran.

* * *

**2016**

Stan’s stomach turned as he looked at the painting. He took a breath to steady himself, he was an adult he told himself, he could deal with a fucking painting. His stomach still felt like it was in knots, he could almost feel paint in his hair. The sound of a box hitting a table startled him.

“Do you like the painting? I almost couldn’t believe that there was a genuine Modigliani here when I moved in. Here are you father’s things.” The rabbi said. Stan turned and looked at the box marked Donald Uris.

“Truthfully the painting scared me when I was younger.” He explained as he took the lid off and looked into the box.

“Ah yes, Modigliani did have a very unique style.  _ Woman with a Flute  _ is a sister painting to  _ Woman with a Fan,  _ both are oil on canvas painted around 1918. I’ve always thought it would be nice to have them hanging next to each other. Sorry I’ve just been rambling on, I’m a bit of an art snob, how is your father doing?” He asked.

Stan was only half way listening as he looked through the box, it was a lot of random papers, a few family photos, and random knick knacks. A small piece of stained cloth caught his attention, he pulled it out. It was his kippah from that day, it was covered in familiar blue and purple paint. He had a feeling this was what he was looking for, a smile spread across his face. It fell again as he registered what the rabbi had asked him.

“He actually passed away a few years ago. Thank you very much for your help, but I have to go. I have...things to do.” Stan spoke in a rush and he grabbed the box and rushed out.

Stan felt a weird combination of happiness and anxiety as he headed towards the library. He hoped his friends had luck finding their tokens as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The painting isn't actually a painting by Modigliani but it is based on his paintings. You should really look him up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicidal thoughts

Chapter 7

The walk to the library was a short one thankfully, it was a muggy day and Stan was sweating. He couldn’t stop playing what happened in his dad’s office all those years ago over and over in his head. He felt like he had paint dripping down face and in his hair again, no matter how many times he rubbed at face the feeling wouldn’t go away. Stan felt absolutely disgusting, it made him want to pull his hair out to get rid of the feeling. 

The sight of the public library was a welcome one, it alleviated the feeling of paint for a few moments. He gripped his kippah tight in his hand as he opened the door to the library. He took a few steps in and looked around for Mike, Stan spotted him in one of the aisles looking over one of the books with a sad look. He shifted awkwardly and cleared his throat to get Mike’s attention. His head shot up and over to Stan, a wide beautiful smile broke across his face before he adjusted it to a more neutral look.

“Stan,” Mike said in almost a sigh, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

He held up his kippah and nodded, they wound up staring at each other with quiet smiles for a few seconds too long, Stan closed his eyes and shuddered as the feeling of wet paint returned to his scalp. Mike opened his mouth to say something.j

“Can I please use you shower? I feel filthy.” He said with a grimace before Mike could speak.

“Of course! My apartment is upstairs, the bathroom is the first door to your left. Go ahead and jump in I can bring you a towel.” Mike assured as he directed Stan to the door leading to his apartment.

Stan gave him a grateful smile before walking up the stairs with heavy steps. He could only focus on getting clean. He had removed his clothes and climbed into the shower before he even looked at the rest of the apartment. Stan had experienced this feeling too many times over the years, he was a pro at cleaning himself sufficiently in a short amount of time. He methodically scrubbed his scalp until it burned, his skin until it was bright red, and he felt okay. It felt like he was finally clean and able to take a deep breath, normally at this point he would get out of the shower and go about his day, but Stan kept standing under the spray. He faintly heard the door open and close a few seconds later, must have been Mike with a towel.

Stan wasn’t sure he could do this, he wanted to be strong enough. He so desperately wanted to be strong enough to help defeat It, but he didn’t think he was. He hadn’t actually experienced anything with the clown today, just memories, and he had been shaken to his absolute core. Maybe he should just go home, maybe his friend  _ would  _ be better off without him, maybe he should just go home.

_ Maybe you should revisit your old plan Stanny. You’re already in the bathroom just finish what you started.  _ The drain whispered to him. Stan stared at drain, swirling with water, in mute silence. He mulled the idea over in his head.

_ C’mon Stan I promise I’ll let them live if you join me now. I’ll even give them good lives, you want your friends to happy right? _ He played the idea the idea in his head, it wouldn’t be a bad trade off. Honestly…

Honesty...no that’s not right. The clown lies, the clown always lied, the clown was completely full of shit. Stan scoffed and shut off the water, the idea was tempting but he couldn’t do that to Mike. He couldn’t let Mike find him like that, he deserved so much better than that. 

“Fuck you.” Stan directed at the drain before stepping out of the shower. He smiled when he noticed that Mike had left him two towels. He had always preferred using two and Mike remembering left a warm feeling in his stomach. He wrapped one around his waist and used the other to begin drying his face and hair. Stan looked down at his clothes and dreaded the thought of putting dirty clothes back on. Hopefully Mike had something to fit him.

Mike was nowhere to be seen when Stan stepped out of the bathroom, he took the opportunity to snoop around Mike’s apartment. It was a small open space, he could see almost everything from where he was standing. A desk completely covered by papers made Stan’s fingers itch with a need to straighten up. He wandered over to it and glanced over the papers, it seemed to be Mike’s research. Stan ran his fingers over some of stacks, sadness settled in him as he realized that this is what Mike had been doing for over 20 years. He could picture him spending nights at this desk desperately trying to make sure they could defeat It.

A flash of color caught his attention in the sea on black and white, another painted rock sat on a stack of folded notebook paper. Stan instinctively reached for the one he had found in the clubhouse before remembering it was in his pants pocket in the bathroom. He picked up this one up, it was very similar to the one he had found earlier, except it had what looked like a bird instead of a heart in the middle. He rubbed a thumb over it, a feeling rising in his chest that he couldn’t identify. Stan reached out to grab the paper that the rock had been on, maybe they could explain why these rocks made his chest ache.

The sound of the apartment door opening interrupted him. He turned to greet Mike, who had stopped in the doorway. He was staring at Stan slack jawed, he looked surprised and...something else. Stan felt himself blushing, he shifted uncomfortably. Mike seemed to shake himself out of it.

“Do you, do you want something to drink? I have some questions to ask, if you don’t mind.” Mike stuttered while still standing stiffly in the doorway.

“Yeah, water would be nice. Do you have any spare clothes?” That seemed to unstick him, Mike walked over to his dresser and dug around for a few seconds. He pulled out some clothes and tossed them to Stan.

“Here, put these on and I’ll grab us some water.” Stan smiled at him and went back into the bathroom.

He quickly dressed in the provided clothes, they were a little big and extremely comfortable. He made sure to grab the other painted rock and placed them next to each other on the bathroom sink. Next to each other it was obvious they were done by two different people. The one with the bird was immaculate, the design was clean and obvious, the heart one wasn’t poorly done by any means, but it had more of a hand made feel to it. Some of the dots were uneven and had bled, the heart was lopsided and filled Stan with so much nostalgia. He pressed at his memories and was met with fuzz and frustration. He slipped the heart rock into his pocket and left the bathroom.

Mike was sitting at his table with what looked like the contents of his refrigerator on it. A few jugs of different beverages and various food items were spread across the table. He had a sheepish expression on his face when he looked up at Stan.

“I know you said water was fine, but I didn’t know if you wanted something else or if you were hungry.” He spoke in a rush. Stan rolled his eyes with a smile and sat down across from him. He poured himself a glass of water.

“You had some questions?” He asked after taking a sip.

“Yeah...mainly how much do you remember? When I called you seemed to remember a lot, but at the clubhouse you were struggling to remember.” Mike asked. Stan hummed and thought for a few seconds.

“I suppose...it seems like I only remember the bad things. I’ve been trying to remember other things but it’s like there is static in my head. I can remember everything about the clown and I can even remember when everyone left, but when I try to remember good things I just can’t.” Stan explained. Mike sighed and looked disappointed.

“That’s strange, at the restaurant everyone seemed to remember the good things first. I wonder why it was the opposite for you? Do you remember when you left?” There seemed to be something desperate about his last question. Stan did what he had done quite a few times in the last 24 hours and pushed at his memories, with the same result.

“It’s weird, I don’t actually. I remember everyone else’s so that means I was the last one to leave right?” He pushed harder and realized he didn’t remember a lot of his last year in Derry, when it would have been just him and Mike. His head began to pound and he rubbed his temples. “I actually don't remember my last year here. Did...did something happen?”

Mike looked crestfallen, he rubbed at his face. An awkward silence fell over them and was interrupted by Mike’s phone ringing. He answered and had a quick conversation with the other person.

“That was Ben, apparently Bill is freaking out we should head over to the townhouse. Go ahead and head downstairs, I’m going to put this stuff away and grab some stuff.” Mike explained.

Stan nodded and headed downstairs. A familiar prickle of danger went up his spine but nothing seemed out of place so he kept going.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence, Gay slurs

Chapter 8

It happened before he could even think. Stan had just walked out of the library stacks and the next thing he knew he was being tackled and slammed to the ground. A weight was pressing on his stomach and hands were twisted in his shirt. He distantly heard glass breaking and random objects hitting the ground. Stan opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of a strange man on top of him, before he could attempt to figure out who it was the man was lifting his head and slamming it into the ground. He tried to kick out at him but the man had the bulk of his weight on Stan’s hips. He tried to scratch the man’s eye and face but his hands were batted away.

The man’s hands moved to his throat and pressed down, Stan grabbed his wrists and pulled at them. He looked into the man’s face and was met with hard hateful eyes, matched with the extremely out of date mullet Stan quickly realized it was Bowers. Stan swore and began yelling, Bowers’ hands pressed more firmly on his throat and cut off his air completely. He whined and began hitting at Bowers’ shoulder and face, Bowers’ face was turning red with effort and spit fell from his mouth onto Stan’s face. His brain was growing fuzzy from lack of oxygen, he could feel himself growing weak. Fuck, he thought hazily, I really don’t want to die here, especially at the hands of fucking Bowers.

Suddenly Bowers’ grip slackened as did his face, Stan took several gasping breaths. Bowers slowly slid to the side and he scrambled back away from him. His stomach turned when he realized there was an ax sticking out of Bowers’ head. Stan rubbed his throat and looked up at Mike who was panting and looking down at Bowers in terror. Finally Stan was able to catch his breath and he winced after swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Holy shit...you saved me. What the fuck? Thank you obviously, but what the fuck? I can’t-” His freakout was interrupted by Richie, Beverly, and Ben rushing in. 

Bev screamed and immediately began asking if they were okay. Stan was too numb with shock and terror to respond, he aggressively rubbed at his throat. He knew he was hyperventilating but couldn’t stop himself. Ben was kneeled in front of him, he placed a gentle hand on Stan’s knee. Stan jerked his leg away, stood, and moved away from the others.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this! I’m sorry, but I’m not built for this. I’m an accountant for fucks sake I don’t do this.” He made a vague gesture towards Bowers.

“Stan, sweetie, none of us are meant to do this, but we have to. You know that Stan.” Bev said softly to him. 

“No! No, it’s different! You guys have always been badasses! I’m not, I never was, I barely made it through the first time. I’m a coward and weak! I’m not brave like you guys, I never was, I’m sorry I can’t do this. I have to go.” Stan was nearly screaming, everyone immediately began voicing their disagreement, he ignored them and ran up to Mike’s apartment.

He paced back and forth for awhile, he kept pulling out his phone to buy a flight before immediately putting it back in his pocket. Stan didn’t know what to do, but he knew he didn’t want to be in Derry anymore. Fucking Bowers, fucking piece of shit Bowers, why did he have to attack him? 

A gentle knocking caught Stan’s attention, no doubt it was Ben or Mike to try and calm him down. He scoffed and ignored them, neither of them knew shit about Stan, they would just say some feel good yuppie stuff. 

“You’re full of shit dude.” Stan’s head shot up, they sent Richie which was a huge surprise. He rolled his eyes and continued to ignore him.

“I’m going to say something to you that I’ve never said to anyone else in my adult life.” Richie sounded nervous.

“What’s that? Thank you? Or I’m sorry?” He shot at Richie who forced out an awkward chuckle.

“Good, uh, good guesses but no. I’m...I’m, uh, I’m gay.” Stan turned to give Richie his full attention.

“Okay…congratulations? I guess. I’m not sure-”

“So when you said that shit about not being brave it made me realize how full of shit you are Stan. After this,” Richie held up one of the arcade tokens, “You made me realize that it was okay to be...gay. Remember?”

**1989**

Richie was being even more of a spaz than usual, he had climbed into Stan’s window almost ten minutes ago and had spent the time pacing across his carpet. Stan was sat on his bed waiting for him to calm down enough to explain what was going on. He was worried, they had all encountered the clown a few times but Richie always seemed to shrug it off, what had happened to him must have struck Richie to his core.

“Are you okay Rich?” Stan asked quietly. Finally he stopped pacing and stopped in front of Stan.

“I ran into Bowers at the arcade.” He explained stiffly. 

“Did you get hurt? I have some aspirin if you need some.” He offered. Stan was truly concerned now, Bowers never affected Richie like this.

“No, I’m fine. There was this boy, we were playing Street Fighter. I was having fun with him, I...I liked him and I wanted to keep playing with him. Except he was Bowers’ cousin and Bowers walked up and he-” Richie started breathing heavier, Stan reached out to put a hand on his shoulder but Richie jerked it away, “He knew Stan! And then I went to the park to calm down and fucking Paul Bunyan asked- of fucking course the clown knows. I’m sure by tomorrow all of fucking Derry will know!”

After his outburst Richie plopped down and put his head between his knees. Stan kneeled down in front of him, he had a feeling what this what about now. He reached out and put a hand on Richie’s ankle.

“Know what Richie?” Stan asked as gently as he could.

“That I’m...I’m a fucking fairy! Is that what you want to hear Stan? That I’m a flamer who like other boys? What are you looking for an excuse to not be my friend anymore?”

“Rich-”

“Are you going to run and tell Bill? To give him more of an excuse to not like me? It’ll just be me, Richie fucking Tozier, all alone. Homo town population: 1”

He continued to rant and Stan stared at him, part of him was overjoyed Richie told him and the rest wanted him to shut up. He tried a few more times to interrupt Richie’s self loathing rant but to no avail. There was only one thing he could think to do.

Stan moved so he was on his knees, towering over Richie, who spared him a glance but didn’t stop talking. Before he could second guess himself he swooped down and planted a kiss to Richie’s mouth. It wasn’t a good kiss, he had been mid sentence so Stan had made more contact with teeth than lips. Richie fell into a dead silence and Stan took the opportunity to kiss him more firmly on the lips. After a few seconds he pulled away and put a hand on Richie’s cheek.

“You’re not alone Rich.” He was staring up at Stan with wide eyes. “I can’t speak for the rest of the losers, but I’m not going to stop being your friend because you’re gay. It would be...hypocritical of me.”

Richie’s mouth slid into a sly smirk, “I knew you couldn’t resist me Stanny.”

“I’m going to stop being friends with you because you’re fucking annoying.” Stan said after rolling his eyes. He moved back to his bed and picked up the book he had been reading before Richie came in. Richie laid down fully on the floor.

“Does this mean we’re like boyfriends now?” Richie asked after a few minutes of silence. Stan scoffed.

“No it does not. Just because we both like boys that doesn’t mean we have to date, besides I have a crush on someone else.” He explained.

Richie laughed, stood up, and threw himself onto the bed next to Stan. He pulled out one of the comic books Stan kept in his room for Richie. They read in silence for a few minutes.

“Thank you Stan. You’re not alone either.” Stan ignored the tears in his voice just as Richie ignored the ones on Stan’s face. “By the way, it’s totally Bill right?”

**2016**

“Everytime I thought about coming out during my career I would unconsciously think of you and that afternoon we spent in your room. I couldn’t remember who you were, of course, but I always thought that if I could be half as brave as the boy who kissed me I could come out. Whether you know it or not Stan you’re brave and we can’t defeat the clown without you. I meant what I said that day, you’re not alone.” Stan rubbed at the tears on his cheeks.

“You’re a terrible kisser Rich.” He said instead of something genuine, in an effort to not have a complete breakdown.

“Shut the fuck up, let’s go rescue Big Bill.” Richie said and threw an arm around his shoulder, “Maybe you can give him a sexuality confirming kiss too.”

Stan slapped him in the ribs and began to head downstairs. He felt stronger than he had years because Richie was right for once, he wasn’t alone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, references to self harm/suicide

Chapter 9

As soon as Richie and Stan walked out of Mike’s apartment they were caught up on the situation with Bill, which didn’t surprise Stan one bit. Part of what had always attracted Stan to Bill was his stubbornness and bravery, it also annoyed him to no end. They had to rescue him and unfortunately they had to walk there. They had tried to drive but none of their cars would start or even turn over, no doubt some of the clown’s bullshit. So walking it was, thankfully Derry wasn’t a large town.

The walk was mostly silent, Stan stayed towards the back of the group. From his position he watched his friends and how they were holding together. Ben and Beverly were walking close. She was faced forward, chin up and shoulders back, he was a little more hunched and kept sneaking glances at Bev. Eddie was walking behind them with Richie hovering over him. Eddie kept fiddling with the bandage on his face and the hem of his shirt, Richie had an arm slung over his shoulder and was doing his best to pester him, Eddie kept slapping at his hand and arm. When Stan looked towards Mike he made unexpected eye contact, Mike had his hands shoved into his pockets and was chewing on his lower lip. Something in Stan yearned to reach out to him.

He quickened his pace to walk next to Mike, he opened his mouth to say something but Stan stopped himself, it didn’t feel like the right time. He reached into his pocket and curled his fist around the painted rock, it was strangely comforting. A brush against his knuckles caught his attention, Stan and Mike had shifted closer, to the point where their hands brushed with every step. Mike was staring ahead with a resigned look on his face, a deeply buried part of him wanted to grab Mike’s hand and hold it tight. Maybe he could, they were nearing their deaths with every step, why not hold his hand? Stan twitched his fingers and-

“What are the odds we survive you think? Do you think they’ve increased or decreased because we’re older? Stan you’re an accountant right? What do you think?” Eddie didn’t seem to be able to hold his anxiety in anymore.

“Dude, you’re the risk analyst. Wouldn’t that be your job or something?” Richie replied for Stan. That set them off on each other and they were quickly bickering, Stan huffed and rolled his eyes.

He began to walk faster, so he could break Eddie and Richie up, but tripped before he could. Strong arms wrapped around him to stop him from hitting the pavement. Something unfurled in him, a vague memory of being in a similar situation with Mike before. They made eye contact and Stan’s heart stopped for a second, Mike pulled his arms back quickly after making sure Stan was stable. They stood too close together for a few seconds too long, and not long enough something whispered in him, before rushing to catch up with the others.

“We’re almost to Neibolt, are you nervous?” Mike asked quietly. Stan scoffed.

“No, not at all.” He replied with sarcasm, he felt like he was vibrating with nerves at this point.

“That’s fair. I am too, but mostly I’m ready for this to be over one way or another.” The urge to hold his hand was strong again.

Before he could they turned the corner to Neibolt and saw Bill stroming up the stairs of the dilapidated house. They all rushed over to him, he turned and began speaking to them. He was saying some bullshit about it all being his fault, Stan wasn’t listening. He couldn’t listen, rushing blood filled his ears as he stared at Neibolt house. He hadn’t thought about this part, the actual _doing_ it part, the part where he had to go into an old drug house and fight a clown. Stan numbly nodded as Beverly picked up a fence post and said something badass.

A hand on his back snapped him back into awareness, Ben was looking at him with concern. Stan noticed the rest of the losers were already going inside, he shook Ben’s hand off and followed them. He felt as if they were marching to their deaths, but knew it was too late to stop. 

Soon enough Pennywise had separated them, Stan was locked in a room with Ben, Bev, and Mike. He still felt numb as Ben and Mike beat at the door, he didn’t know if it was the fear or anxiety that had him feeling like he was stuck in molasses but he wanted to help. Stan _had_ to help his friends, he clenched his fist around his painted rock and forced himself back into awareness. Ben screaming and holding his stomach had him shaking the last of his numbness away. He rushed over and knelt across from Beverly, an H was carving itself into Ben’s stomach. Stan placed one of his hands over Ben’s and put the other just above where the O and M were being carved.

After HOME was finished and the A was starting Stan felt a tingle on his wrists. He looked down in horror as blood began to soak his sleeves. He pulled up his sleeves and watched as an I and a T carved themselves from his wrists to his elbows. The pain had Stan gasping and shuddering, he felt Mike pull his arms towards him and cried out. He pressed his hands to Stan’s cuts in an effort to stem the blood and looked at Stan with desperate tear filled eyes. 

He had to look away, he had tried so hard to avoid this, he hadn’t _actually_ done this. That fucking clown, Stan thought on repeat and he looked desperately around the room. That fucking clown! He watched as Pennywise finished carving LAST into Ben, shame gripped him when he noticed the decrepit younger version of himself standing over him with a bloody piece of glass. Stan’s shame turned into rage as he watched Pennywise and young him move their weapons to Ben’s and Mike’s throats.

“B-Bev, the mirror. It’s not- break it. Please.” Stan shuddered out. Bev looked at his questioningly before realizing what was happening. She popped up and shattered the mirror.

As soon as it broke both of their wounds disappeared, Mike rubbed his thumbs along Stan’s unmarred wrists. He and Ben panted in relief, they sat in silence for a few seconds and let the wave of relief wash over them. It was interrupted by screaming coming from down the hall. They rushed to the kitchen, and Bev cried out in dismay when she realized all the doors were locked. Stan could hear Richie and Bill screaming inside, he helped Mike to try and break the door down. 

“I think there is another way other here!” Ben shouted from around the corner.

The three of them rushed over and followed the path he had found, the screaming grew more frantic the closer they got. Stan watched as Ben repeatedly stabbed a weird crab thing that was over Richie’s head. He noticed Eddie pressed against the far wall in the middle of what looked like a panic attack. The weird crab thing was thrown to the side, Stan felt funny when he realized it was the younger version of himself’s decapitated head. 

He watched in shock as Bill pressed Eddie harder against the wall, “Richie could have died you know that? First Georgie! T-then those kids! I can’t lose Richie too! You want Richie too? You want Richie too?” Mike started pulling him away as he began screeching at Eddie.

“Please don’t be Mad Bill.” There was something in Eddie’s tone that made everyone pause. “I was- I was just scared.”

“Eddie.” Stan spoke up. “That’s what It wants, we can’t give it to him.” He made eye contact with Eddie and tried to communicate that he was the same. That he was terrified too, but they had to work past it. Eddie shakily nodded at him, Stan gave him a small smile.

“What do we do now?” Bill asked Mike. Stan sighed, he had a feeling where they had to go and he was not looking forward to it.

“The same as last time, we have to go into the sewers.” Mike stated. They stood in awkward silence, no one really wanting to make the first movie.

“Was that, uh, was that my head earlier? Because that’s some freaky shit.” Stan said in an effort to break the silence. Bill chuckled and threw an arm around Stan,he felt a thrill shoot up him from the contact as they led the others towards the basement.

“L-l-let’s fucking do this.” Bill commanded.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Anxiety and disgust ran through Stan as they went through the sewers to It’s lair, he felt strangely numb during most of the trek. It almost felt like an out of body experience, or perhaps it was déjà vu from the last time he was down here. After what felt like ages and no time at all they finally hit the place of their original ‘final’ encounter with Pennywise.

“Where do we have to go Mike?” Stan asked.

“We have to go further down, It will be at the very depths of the Earth.” Mike explained and Stan groaned.

“Here we go boys.” Bev said as she climbed into the hole they had knocked Pennywise down all those years ago. Ben rushed over to help her down and helped Bill and Mike. Stan was next and he froze at the entrance, he tried to get his legs to move but they were stubbornly still. Ben reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Stan-” He was cut off by the sounds of Richie and Eddie tussling. Eddie was trying to use his inhaler and Richie had basically wrapped himself around Eddie to stop him. Stan rolled his eyes Richie hadn’t gained any subtlety since they were kids. Finally Richie wrestled the inhaler away.

Richie took a step back but held on to Eddie’s hands, he seemed to be giving him a pep talk. Stan couldn’t keep the smile off of his face when Richie cupped Eddie’s cheek, he hoped they survived and could work out what had been building between them for years. Stan forced himself to climb over the edge, he had to do the best he could so his friends could have a happy ending. Ben smiled at him as he helped Stan down. Soon enough they were all at the bottom and they huddled together, all of them silently unwilling to go forward. Bev, their true leader, walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“This kills monsters...if you believe it does.” She stated while handing him the fence post.

Eddie nodded grimly and they set forward. The passage was tight and narrow, it made him wonder how the clown fit through. The tightness of the walls made him feel claustrophobic, he did his best to keep his anxiety down his friends didn’t need him to freak out. Finally the passage let out into a wide open space and as Stan looked around he was awestruck. The clown’s home was strangely beautiful, the massive stone spires looked ethereal. It was so strange to think how something so vile and evil come from such a beautiful place, but it also made complete sense. 

“So this has been here this whole time?” Ben breathed out.

“Only a few million years.” Mike said with a smile, Stan could help but smile back at him. Mike became serious again, “We have to kill it in it’s true form.”

He explained while walking to the middle of the spire and setting down the weird leather container.

“What’s it true form?” Stan asked.

“The ritual will show us.” Mike explained.

“I hope it’s a Pomeranian, like a small fluffy little...I’ll shut up now.” Richie said after receiving glares from everyone. 

“His light...must be blocked by darkness. Put your artifacts in.” Mike said cryptically while removing the lid from the container. Stan had a feeling something was off, there was a strange desperation in his tone that had Stan on edge. He put it aside as Bill stepped forward, he had a paper boat in his hand.

“This is a little boat I made with...Georgie.” Bill forced out, Stan gave him a sympathetic look as he placed it in the container.

“I can’t really follow that, but, uh, this is my inhaler.” Eddie said and then took a puff off his inhaler.

“Dude.” Stan and Richie said at the same time. Eddie flushed and tossed his inhaler in.

“This is something I wish I’d saved.” Beverly tossed in the poem Ben had written her. Ben gave her a lovesick look.

“I carried this around for the last 27 years, some part of me always remembered.” Ben was holding a small piece of paper? Stan wasn’t sure what it was but it didn’t really matter as long as it was important.

“This is a game token.” Richie said lightly, Stan immediately thought of that day and their kiss. He tried to make eye contact with Richie but he avoided it.

“Is that metal?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah? We had to bring something.” Richie repiled.

“Dude, that’s gonna take like forever to burn.”

“Your inhaler has plastic and shit it’ll take forever too, not to mention the fumes.” Stan rolled his eyes trust Richie and Eddie to find a way to argue even in a life or death situation.

“Shut the fuck up you two.” He said as he tossed his kippah in. Mike looked around at his friends with sad eyes as he pulled out his artifact.

“This rock...changed my life, it started so much in my life.” Looking at the blood stained rock and hearing Mike’s words shook something in Stan. He curled his fingers around the painted rock in his pocket, they were connected somehow Stan was sure of it. He reached into his memories and felt like if he just pulled he could figure out the connection, Stan closed his eyes in order to focus better.

“That won’t burn either.” Stan could just punch Richie, his interruption made Stan lose his train of thought.

“Okay, let’s hold hands,” And they did, Stan was between Mike and Bill, both hands were very warm. “The ritual of Chud is a battle of wills, we completed the first 2 steps and this is the third.”

Almost as soon as Mike was done speaking the fire went out, the cavern was dark, and Stan gripped Bill’s hand tighter. Suddenly bright lights filled the top of the chamber, Stan looked up and saw three perfect spheres of light floating down. They were mesmerizing, he could hear them whispering but he couldn’t make out what was being said.

“What are those?” Someone asked.

“They’re the deadlights! Don’t look at them! Repeat after me, turn the darkness into light. Turn the darkness into light.” Mike yelled desperately, Stan averted his eyes from the lights and peered at Mike’s face. Something wasn’t right but Stan chanted with his friends anyway.

The lights slowly descended into the container, Mike slammed the lid onto it. Stan breathed a sigh of relief, it was over, they were free. He kept his eyes closed and leaned his head back. A squeaking sound placed a pit deep into his stomach, he slowly opened his eyes and saw the worst possible thing. A red balloon was forming on top of the container, it was growing bigger and bigger, until Stan and everyone else had to jump off of the platform.

“Fuck!” Stan screamed.

The balloon popped. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicidal imagery, suicide mention

Chapter 11

The force pushed everyone away, Stan hit the ground with a pained grunt. His ears were ringing, one of the losers grabbed at his arm to pull him up. Stan went easily, he looked to see which of his friends it was. It was Mike, who looked like a kicked puppy, Stan was filled with rage. Mike  _ knew,  _ he knew it wasn’t going to work. Stan ripped his arm out of Mike’s hand, he gave Stan a sad look.

“Did it work?” Eddie asked.

“Are we free? Is it done? Mike?” Bev pleaded. Mike looked horrified and opened his mouth to speak several times but didn’t manage to get a single word out. The rest of the losers asked similar questions at the same time.

“Tell them Mikey. Tell them why your stupid little ritual didn’t work. Tell them it’s just...what do you call it? Fairy tales.” It was  _ huge  _ and leaning between the spires, Stan instinctively took several steps back.

“Mike?” Bill questioned.

“You didn’t show them the full truth. You didn’t want them to know what happened to those poor natives, did you?” Pennywise cooed.

“Fucks sake Mike, did you lie to us again?” Richie whined. Stan turned to face Mike, who was panting and looked desperate.

“They didn’t think it would work! That’s why it killed them.” Stan went cold at that statement.

“Mike…” He said softly.

“Stan, I, I needed something. We were supposed to remember. We were supposed to believe!” He was nearly crying as he spoke.

Before anyone could question Mike more blue lights shot out of the ritual container, they were blindingly bright. Stan instinctively averted his eyes, he watched Pennywise walk in his strange form towards the losers before he abruptly stopped.

“For 27 years I dreamed of you. I yearned for you.....I missed you!” It crooned. Stan scrambled behind some of the nearby outcroppings, unsure what the clown was going to do, but knew it wasn’t going to be good. He looked for the rest of his friends to make sure they were safe as well, his heart dropped when he noticed Mike standing directly in It’s pathway.

“Mike!” Stan screamed along with everyone else. He could faintly hear Mike chanting ‘I’m sorry’ on repeat. Horror filled him as Pennywise turned his hand into a claw and aimed it towards Mike. Stan desperately wanted to help but he was frozen to the spot, thankfully fearless Bill dove to save him. Pennywise started running towards them, before he could think Stan was running to Mike and grabbing his hand to pull him along.

They ran around the spires from It, slowly being peeled off one by one. Stan gripped Mike’s hand tight and pulled him into one of the caves. He kept going until he felt like they were a safe distance from It. He released Mike’s hand and slowly slid to the ground, Mike did the same on the opposite wall, he put his face into his hands.

“Stan, I’m so sorry. I thought it would work, I didn’t want all that research to be wasted. Please you have to believe me Stan, I didn’t want y- any of us to get hurt.” Mike was nearly sobbing. Stan wanted to stay angry with him, but he couldn’t. He lightly kicked Mike’s leg.

“It’s okay, you were doing your best. I can’t imagine what I would have done in your situation. Mike, no one was hurt yet and we have to figure out a way to defeat the clown before that changes. Is there anything else you can think of?” Stan asked desperately.

“I don’t-I genuinely don’t know. I know that he feeds off of pain and suffering, the weakness of other makes him strong. I’ve been trying to figure out for the last 20 years what could beat something like that, and you know what I came up with?” Mike held up his hand, palm up, and empty. Stan pulled out his painted rock and stroked it with his thumb, suddenly he started giggling. He couldn’t stop, peals of laughter fell from him.

“Stan?” Mike questioned. Stan just shook his head and kept laughing, after a few minutes he got it under control.

“It’s just, we have to kill this weird fucking alien clown thing and all I have is this.” He offered the rock to Mike. “I don’t even know why I have that. I don’t even know whose it is but it’s all I have to defeat It.” At the end he was very much not laughing anymore. Mike looked at the rock with a sad smile.

“Sometimes a rock can change your life, I know that better than anyone. As for whose it is? It’s your Stan, I made it for you and I think if anyone could kill the clown with just this it would be you.” Mike explained earnestly. Stan sat in stunned silence for a few seconds. 

“It’s yours and you should have it.” Mike said and handed it back. “Stan, if something bad happens I need to say- I need you to know that I still l-” He was interrupted by a weird claw tentacle thing coming down the mouth of the cave. They both scrambled up and ran deeper into the cave, finally they reached a pointed it couldn’t reach. It was pitch black this deep in, Stan reached out to find Mike.

“Mike? What were you saying?” Stan began to panic because he could feel Mike anywhere and he wasn’t responding. “Fuck.”

A bright light caught his attention, he groaned but walked towards it anyway. It was a white light and the end of a long dark pathway, the closer he got he realized it was a bathtub. A figure was laying in the tub, when Stan grew close enough to recognize who it was he stopped in his tracks. It was Mike, he was still and lifeless. He knew it wasn’t real but he couldn’t stop himself from rushing forward. When Stan was just out of touching distance red spouted from Mike’s wrists and filled up the tub.

“Stan, man you gotta help me.” Not-Mike sobbed.

“You’re not Mike, I know you’re not Mike. Mike wouldn’t-” Stan gripped the rock tight in his hand. “This isn’t real.”

“You’re right.” Bill appeared behind him in a similar state as Mike. “Mike wouldn’t, but you would Stanny.”

“In fact, you should  _ have. _ ” Richie appeared to his left.

“We could win if you weren’t here.” It was Eddie this time from beside Richie.

“You’re too weak Stan, you’re going to be the reason we die.” Ben grumbled from his right.

“I saw you die Stan. You should have died!” Bev snarled next to Ben.

The bleeding versions of his friends began to encircle him, Stan didn’t know what to do. “None of us truly liked you, we were friends because we pitied the weird Jewish boy. I only talked to you because Bill tolerated you.” Eddie said with a disgusted look.

“My parents only wanted to get in good with the Rabbi, they made me talk to you. I can’t believe you ever thought we were  _ anything  _ alike.” Richie hissed.

Stan felt hot tears run down his cheeks, he crumpled into a ball on the ground. He knew it was just the clown playing tricks but he was so scared. His friends began to chant ‘you’re alone.’ He could feel them grow closer and closer, something warm began to drip onto his head and shoulders. Someone's hand threaded into his hand and yanked his head back, his eyes met Bill’s hateful ones.

“This will be over and we can win if you just do what you were meant to.” Bill cooed softly. 

“What-what do you mean?” Stan asked. Hands grabbed him all over, they pulled him up, and began to pull at his clothes. “I d-don’t want to.”

“You have to.” Bill cupped his face, and then suddenly shoved him backwards into the tub.

Stan looked down and watched as Richie placed a shard of glass into his hand, he looked towards his other hand and saw the painted rock. He immediately thought of Mike, he had to find him, the real him. He stood, his ‘friends’ tried to push him back down, Stan slapped all of their hands away.

“I’m not alone and I’m not going to abandon my friends!” He screamed and closed his eyes.

When he opened them his ‘friends’ were gone, Stan ran down the long pathway. He pushed until his legs and lungs hurt but he finally saw the light of the cavern. Never did he think he would be happy to be near the clown. He burst out of the cave and looked around desperately for his friends. Stan’s stomach dropped when he saw Richie floating with a vacant expression in his eyes. Thankfully the rest of his friends were safe, but unfortunately on the complete opposite side of the cavern.

Stan watched in awe as Eddie launched the fence post into Pennywise’s gaping maw, he cheered as It began to cough and choke. Richie collapsed flat on the ground, Eddie practically sprinted over to him and sat on him. (Eddie wasn’t really subtle either Stan thought) His other friends were smiling, laughing, and hugging each other.

They were so caught up that they didn’t notice the clown moving, preparing to strike. Stan’s mind raced as Pennywise drew his claw back, before a plan could be fully formed he cocked his arm back and chucked the painted rock at It as hard as he could. It made a pitiful plinking noise as it bounced off one of the spider/crab legs. Thankfully that was enough to get the clown’s attention, it whipped around to peer at Stan.

“Well, well, well, looks like Stanny finally grew some courage. Do you think you saved them? I’m going to rip all of you apart limb from limb, one by one.” Stan scrambled back, he really hadn’t thought this through.

“Or maybe not so courageous.” Pennywise changed his face into her’s. The painting from his father’s office. Stan slammed his eyes shut, he had to think of something. The clown got strength from weakness, so they had to weaken him somehow. With as big as It was now any sort of physical way would be nearly impossible, so they had to weaken it some other way. Suddenly an idea came to him, he had no idea if it would work but it was better than nothing. He had to give the clown a dose of its own medicine. Stan opened his eyes, straightened his shoulders, and lifted his chin.

“ _ Woman with a Flute,  _ 1918, by Amedeo Modigliani. She’s nothing more than oil on canvas and you’re nothing more than a fucking clown!” Stan spat. Pennywise was visibly shocked and he reverted back to his normal face.

“I’m a devourer of worlds!” It screamed.

“Weird because all I see is a disgusting clown.” He looked towards his friends for support.

“A frail old woman!” Beverly yelled.

“A bully!” Ben added.

“A terrible imitator!” Bill screamed.

They all began screaming various insults at the clown as it grew smaller, eventually they just chanted clown in unison. It grew weaker and smaller, Richie ripped off one of the arms and Stan one of the legs. Finally it was just a small deflated form on the rocks, it was misshapen and struggling to breath.

“You’re just a clown with fear beating in its heart.” Bill stated.

“Look at you, all grown up already.” Those were Its final words, before Mike reached into its chest ripped out the blackened shriveled heart, and they crushed it into dust.

“Holy shit.” Ben commented. The ground started shaking and rocks began to tumble down around them.

They ran and began to climb out of the cavern, Stan knew that they weren’t safe yet. That literally any second everything could collapse around them, but he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. A joy bubbled up in his chest from they knowledge that he was finally free of that fucking clown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry this is not the end I have quite a bit more planned.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

None of them were quite sure what to do after Neibolt collapsed in on itself, someone started walking so everyone else simply followed. Stan was buzzing with energy, he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad energy but he was practically vibrating. All of them were really, there was no stiffness or formality between them anymore, everyone was bumping shoulders and brushing hands. Seven identical grins spread across their faces as they came in view of the quarry.

“Guys this is a terrible idea, I have an open wound remember? I don’t want to die of an infection.” Eddie whined. Ben laughed and threw an arm around Eddie’s shoulders.

“That’s what they make antibiotics for Eddie.” Ben joked. It was a testament to how happy he was that Eddie didn’t put up more of a fight. 

They all laughed at the guardrail and the ‘No Jumping” sign as they brushed past it. Bev jump in first of course, Stan and the other boys shoved at each other until they were all in the water. This disgusting water was one of the most refreshing things Stan had felt in a long time. He sat back against some of the rocks and watched the other boys monkey around in the water, Bev joined him.

“It feel too good to be true.” She said after a few moments.

“I know, I hope now that It’s gone we’ll remember each other this time.” Stan said honestly.

“I think if It’s really gone we should, I hope we do at least.” He smiled at her and hummed in agreement. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Bill you bitch, you knocked my glasses off.” Richie whined before diving under the water, he quickly resurfaced. “Shit, I can’t find them.”

Beverly chirped out a laugh and joined everyone in searching for his glasses, Stan rolled his eyes and stayed firmly in his spot. He watched as Ben and Bev swam towards each other as if pulled by magnets. They made an effort to find Richie’s glasses, but they spent an awfully long time under the water. Stan couldn’t be quite sure what they were doing but he had a feeling. His grin widened on his face and he tilted his head back, Stan was overjoyed his friends had found some happiness.

He had been sitting there, eyes closed, and soaking up the sun for a few minutes when he felt someone settle next to him. Stan peeked one eye open to see who it was, Bill was next to him in a similar position. 

“What’s the plan now for Stan the man?” Bill asked. Stan sat up a little, he hadn’t really thought about that yet.

“I’m not sure, I’ll probably just go back to Atlanta.” That seemed like a safe answer. “How about you big bill?”

“Well, I have a movie to finish and the rest depends on if my wife gives me another chance.” Bill sighed. Stan clapped him on the shoulder, he was less upset than he thought he would be at the mention of Bill’s wife. He looked around and caught Mike’s eyes, he had a strange expression on his face. Stan lifted an eyebrow at him and Mike averted his gaze.

“I’m sure she will, you’re a good guy Bill.” Bill hummed but didn’t seem convinced.

“Let’s hope so, I think I’ve had just about enough of the quarry. How about you?”

“I think Ben and Bev are the ones that need to head back to the townhouse before we see something we can’t unsee.” Stan joked. He felt as if he wanted to stay in this moment forever, this is exactly the outcome he had been hoping for.

Ben and Beverly were above the water now, wrapped tightly in each other's arms, Richie and Eddie were aggressively splashing each other while arguing. Mike was...sad? He was sitting by himself staring into the water with a distant sad look on his face. Stan tuned out Bill repeated suggestion of leaving and watched Mike. After a few seconds he swam over to him. Mike was sitting on a rock with just his legs in the water so Stan crossed his arms on top of Mike’s knees and put his head on them, he jumped as soon as Stan touched him.

“What’s wrong?” Stan asked.

“Nothing, I’m fine just spaced out for a second there.” Stan rolled his eyes and gave Mike a ‘not buying it’ look, he sighed. “Okay, It’s just...we defeated Pennywise.”

“That should be a good thing right?” He idly rubbed his thumb on Mike’s knee.

“Of course! I’ve worked for the past 20 years to make sure that would happen...and it’s all I worked on. It’s gone and of course I’m overjoyed, but I also have nothing to do now. I can’t exactly write ‘Expert on Supernatural Space Clowns’ on my resumes.” Mike ranted. 

Stan waited for him to calm down before speaking, “You can do whatever you want now. You can go anywhere and do anything, no matter what you choose we’ll be here for you. You’re not alone anymore Mike, none of us are.”

Mike looked at Stan with a strange expression, something about the look made Stan’s head feel funny. He could feel something rising in his brain, a vague feeling of warm hands and soft lips. He closed his eyes to let the memory wash over him, but before it could two large hands planted themselves on Stan’s shoulders and forced him under the water.

Stan resurfaced sputtering and gasping, he could hear a familiar giggle from behind him. He whipped around and glared at Richie, who almost immediately sobered up.

“I’m going to beat the shit out of you Richard.” Stan snarled.

“Stan, dude-” He threw himself at Richie before he could finish speaking, Stan set about trying to drown Richie.

Soon enough Stan had gotten his share of payback and the losers headed back towards the townhouse. This walk had none of the awkwardness the others had, they were all shoving each other and joking around. By the time they arrived they were all exhausted from the day’s events, but none of them were ready to part from each other. So they gathered as many blankets and pillows as they could, under Ben’s direction a very sturdy fort was built in the biggest and cleanest guest room. (Stan’s room to be specific) They order 4 large pizzas and consumed them in short order. A pile bodies formed as all of the losers settled in for the best night of sleep any of them had had in the last 27 years. 

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr if you want: scarletb1tch.tumblr.com


End file.
